


A Spaceman Came Travelling

by Nellblazer



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Special, Companion Reader, Companions, Creepy, F/M, Haunted Houses, Horror, Moral Dilemmas, Survival Horror, Survivor Guilt, Tenth Doctor Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:34:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28324647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nellblazer/pseuds/Nellblazer
Summary: *Doctor Who Christmas Special Fic*A journalist for the local newspaper, you investigate the history of Heatheridge House and its disappearing children.*Please do not replicate my work anywhere else without my express permission*
Relationships: Tenth Doctor/Reader
Kudos: 29





	A Spaceman Came Travelling

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Peril, horror tropes, ethical choices
> 
> A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! Much love to you all - Nell x
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)

Not for the first time that day was I wondering why I was subjecting myself to the horror night special of wandering around in a dark, abandoned corridor.

I work for the local newspaper and, okay I'm not very high up the chain, but I was trying to make a name for myself. That's why I was here at Heatheridge House.

For years there had been rumours about the once stately home turned orphanage that children would disappear in the night. Slowly it started to operate out of less and less wings, the old ones left to gather dust as only the front left wing remained to house the kids.

Stories had taken on a kind of mythos in this town, a cult legendary status that something evil lived in that house and it preyed upon those living in it. Regularly teenagers would try to break in, ghost hunters too but all to no avail. They either never saw anything or were too traumatised to ever speak again.

I'd tried to interview one of these people but it was clear they were just an empty shell left behind. They only came to life when Jam Roly Poly was offered by one of the nurses. It didn't leave me with a good feeling when I walked out of the psychiatric unit.

I could've left this alone, tried to find another avenue to grab a good storyline with but I'd grown up with this place, hovered outside on many a late night as a youngster, trying to work up the courage to go in. Curiosity was fuelling me as I approached the large building with its impressive brickwork facade and sole lights at the bottom.

It gave the house this sort of lopsided effect which only made me feel more uneasy.

Glancing upwards to the sky, I was startled to see such a bright star in the inky blackness. For a moment I had a joke with myself that it was a Christmas star but I certainly didn't feel very festive the second I walked through the double doors.

I don't know exactly what it was but something just felt off. You know the sensation of being watched? Magnify that by a hundred. The hairs on my body were standing on end immediately and I had this overwhelming urge to flee.

Looking down to the right, the pitch black hallway just seemed to swallow all the light from the orphanage wing and I had the distinct feeling of being weighed, measured and assessed.

“Hello! You must be from the Newton-St-Loe Herald!” a voice nearly makes me jump in fright. “Sorry! Didn't know what time you'd be arriving.”

“Hi, you're Mrs Fenwick?”

“I certainly am,” she gives me a wan smile. “Come along now. It's not good to linger out here. Gets very cold.”

Her face seems to drop the little warmth it had as she looks past me and down the corridor but she steers me towards the light nonetheless and I'm suddenly in what seems like a drawing room. There's children playing board games, much to my surprise, and reading. Not one of them is looking at a phone.

“Signal is a disaster here,” Mrs Fenwick explains. “And those games computer thingies don't work for some reason. They do just fine with the traditional methods though.”

“So a very vintage orphanage experience?” I ask.

“You could say that. Anyway, you came here to talk about the history of the house and have a look around. Can I fetch you some tea?”

“That would be lovely.”

I don't drink tea but it's rude to refuse. She just bustles off and leaves me to sit near the fire on a large sofa.

The second she's gone, one of the kids looks up at me, “You shouldn't be here.”

“Why not?” I'm a bit baffled by the aggression of the tone.

“They only like Mrs Fenwick here. You should go.”

“Who's they?”

“Robbie, shut up!” a younger girl points at him. “We're not supposed to tell.”

“Tell me what? Is there someone else in this house?”

Robbie gives me a pained look before looking over his shoulder to where I'd had the bad feeling upon entering the house. Now that I think about it, I felt a lot better being in this room.

“Is it down there?” I ask. “Felt like I should run away from whatever's there.”

“You should,” Robbie looks back at me. “Don't stop in the dark bits.”

“And don't turn around,” an older girl adds.

“Are you scaring the poor girl?” Mrs Fenwick comes back in with a tea tray and some biscuits on it. “Shame on you. Apologise now.”

“Sorry miss,” Robbie and the older girl chorus but exchange dark glances between each other.

I don't know if they're trying to freak me out or warn me but it puts me on edge even more. I completely miss the fact there's a third cup of tea until I take mine because I'm so preoccupied with the ominous words.

“Is someone joining us?” I ask.

“Oh! Forgot to say. A fellow journalist arrived at the side entrance,” she smiles kindly.

“Fellow journalist? From the Herald?”

“No from the Bath Chronicle apparently. Quite a coincidence two of you turning up at the same time but you were nice enough to announce your arrival beforehand.”  
“The...the Chronicle?” I blanch.

They were a much bigger newspaper than my little local one was. I bet whoever this person was, they had a lot more funding and blessing than I had gotten for this excursion. I was not looking forward to working with a rival.

“Yes, the Chronicle,” a male voice from behind me and I look around to see a lanky man wearing a blue suit and a brown overcoat. “And you must be the other journalist. That's wonderful. Love a good investigation, don't you? Maybe we can share notes?”

“I'm good, thank you,” I sip the tea even though it makes me want to scrunch my nose up. “With your permission Mrs Fenwick, I was going to look on the second floor in the back of the right wing.”

“Where all the rumours started. Yes I quite understand,” she nods with a very glazed look in her eye. “I hope you have a good torch because the electricity hasn't worked up there for decades and watch your step. There's no telling what condition the house is in sometimes.”

“I will get started and leave you with......” I hang for a name.

“The Doctor,” the guy smiles happily.

“The Doctor?”

“Yeah, sort of a pen name really. Liked it so much it stuck,” he rocks on the balls of his feet with his hands in his pockets.

“Then I shall leave you with the Doctor,” I hurriedly gather my things to begin.

“Don't wander too far,” he calls after me. “Just in case anything happens and you need help.”

“I'm fine, thanks.”

It's not until I'm at the bottom of the stairs that I feel a tug at my jacket and look around to see the younger girl stood there with a teddy bear.

“This is for you,” she hands it to me. “It'll protect you. Just believe in it. I promise. Believe so hard. If you don't believe, they'll get you.”

“Who will get me?”

“I can't say,” she shakes her head. “Just don't turn around.”

“Wait!” I call as she moves to run back. “What's your name?”

“Kayla.”

“Thank you, Kayla. I'll hold onto this,” I clutch the bear.

“His name is Mr Teddington.”

“I'll give you Mr Teddington when I get back from my search.”

Then she scoots off back into the orphanage wing.

I put the bear in my bag, thinking Kayla was very sweet but all of these kids I'd spoken to so far were scared stiff and I didn't know what was causing it. There couldn't be any truth to the ghost stories...could there?

I went up the stairs, footsteps muffled on the thick carpet before hanging a right and clicking on my megawatt torch. I'm not going to do this with a phone light or a tiddly lighter or something, I'm not taking any chances. I could fall through the floor if the wood had rotted due to abandonment.

Slowly, now I was away from the little bustle of Mrs Fenwick and the children, that feeling returned, the urge to scarper, to jump out of the window. Anything to get away.

I ignored it, pushing forward until I opened a set of double doors that had been secured with a deadbolt high off the ground. The dust hit me immediately and the musty smell. No one had been here in years.

What shocked me was that everything seemed to have been left exactly as it was. I expected to see dust sheets or something covering the furniture but there was debris strewn everywhere. Chairs were tipped over or broken, beds were on their sides, clothing was strewn everywhere and on the wall were what looked like rake marks in the wallpaper.

I went closer, examining them with my torch before putting my hand in the same pattern. Definitely an adult's hand.

What the hell had happened in this room?

My heart rate started spiking for no reason, breath catching in my chest as I just knew I was in danger without ever seeing anything. Was this the feeling that haunted those people in the mental health ward?

There's a whisper of a breeze at my neck and I freeze, the warnings of the children still in my head.

_Don't turn around. Don't turn around._

“Oh hello!” a cheery voice and I make a loud yell, falling over an armchair in my haste to get away.

“Oh sorry!” the guy calling himself The Doctor winces. “Should've been a little less silent probably. Here.”

He helps me up before blinding me with something blue in my eyeline that buzzes and I see springs of sapphire dots in my vision as I try to adjust.

“What the hell was that for?!” I rub my eyes viciously.

“Just checking.”

“Checking for what?”

“You know...stuff.”

“What are you doing up here anyway? I said I didn't want to team up.”

“Oh come on, this place is big enough for the both of us. Besides, you looked like you needed a friend.”

“Well I don't, so excuse me,” I adjust my grip on the torch, blinding him in retaliation before storming off to the back rooms.

“Gosh you're rude,” he says in disbelief.

“I have a job to do and I don't need you getting in my way,” I don't give him a backwards glance.

Now I'm in what would have been the wing supervisor's room and there's a smell that's cloying, metallic and malodorous. It's not until I shine my light that I see dried blood on the walls behind the desk which was broken in two.

“What happened here?” I murmur to myself.

Surely this should have been cleaned up if something horrible had happened? This had to be some kind of a joke or some cult thing and it was chicken's blood or whatever.

It was a nice lie I told myself but I knew from the colour and age of everything around me it wasn't recent and hadn't been for decades. Something horrific had occurred in this room.

Perhaps that explained what had happened to one of the matrons in the early fifties. I just didn't understand why they'd want to keep a shrine rather than cleaning this away and making use of the wing again.

When I rounded the desk, I nearly dropped the torch to see a yellowed long set of bones, just one leg and foot it seemed, poking out from the mess of splinters.

“This has to be a joke,” I shake my head, bending to examine it but unwilling to touch it.

“I don't think it is.”

The Doctor had come right behind me again and I leap up, smacking him in the arm.

“DON'T _DO_ THAT!” my voice bounces off the walls.

“OW! No need to get violent!” he rubs the spot with a scowl. “Whaddya do that for?!”

“You keep scaring me! This is creepy enough as it is.”

“And yet you're still here.”

“I have work to do, a story to tell.”

“So you keep on going even though you're terrified. That's brilliant,” he grins. “I love a good story.”

“I would think so being a journalist.”

“Yes, a journalist,” he coughs. “So those don't seem to be a Halloween decoration.”

“I would lick it to test if it's real but I don't think I have the stomach for it.”

“Would you really do that? Cor, you're an explorer at heart, aren't you? I'll save you the trouble. Those are definitely human bones.”

“Because you're a Doctor?” I raise my eyebrow.

“Someone's feeling sassy,” he looks off to the side with wide eyes. “Yes, I do have some medical know how.”

“So it's a title then? Like professor? Bit grandiose for a nickname.”

“Oi! I don't see you giving _your_ name for me to make fun of.”

“I'm not offering it. If you're insisting I call you 'The Doctor', I'm not giving it to you either. It's ridiculous.”

“So what am I supposed to call you? Woman? Girl? Thing? Oi you?”

“Don't care,” I move away, snapping a few pictures.

“How about Journ for journalist? Rather jaunty. Then I can say, let's adjourn, Journ. Ooo, I like it.”

“Look, are you actually doing an investigation or just trying to steal my ideas here?”

“Truthfully? I'm trying to save you.”

“Save me? From what?”

“That for starters,” he points behind me.

I turn around, seeing a pair of deep orange eyes from the darkest corner of the room. I quickly bring the torch up but it's gone just as soon as the light hits.

“What the hell _is_ that?” I back up, accidentally stepping on his shoe.

“You know, first I thought the Vashta Nerada were responsible. They hide in shadows mostly, carnivores. Think of them like piranhas. Not them though, but this...this is old. I haven't seen something like this since the Roman era.”

“Roman? Are you alright in the head?”

“Perfectly fine,” he smiles genially. “Did I mention we should probably run about now?”

“Why?”

“Because there's more than one in this room and they just took the leg away.”

I glance down and see he's right but I barely have time to process before he's grabbed my hand and is racing down the corridor with me. I almost trip over but manage to get my feet under me and we flee towards the staircase, except the door to the stairs slams shut in our faces and I crash into the back of him, pitching backwards onto the floor.

“Oh no no no, this is not good. Not good,” he uses that blue light thingy to sweep over the door. “They've trapped us.”

“Trapped us? Who's _they_?!”

“I've never known another name for them. A species entirely native to Earth. Not seen once since 45BC. They called them the Timore Malorum or The Malignant Fear but Caesar and I got very drunk one night, great wine, great great wine, and we decided to shorten it to the Talorum race. Basically most monsters under the bed, in the wardrobe, that figure in the hallway late at night, that's them but I've never seen something on this scale or strength level before.”

“What on earth are you spouting right now?!” I try the door but it doesn't budge.

“Oh just believe me, would you? They're native beings of Earth.”

“So not ghosts?”

“Ghosts? Don't be ridiculous.”

“You're telling me you got drunk with Caesar and _I'm_ the one being ridiculous?”

“Ohhhhh time to go, Journ,” The Doctor grabs my hand again and I feel the rush of something just miss me as it hits the doorframe making it rattle.

We go stumbling into a side room where he barricades the door that's our only entry and exit route.

“Who _are_ you?” I pant, trying to make sense of things.

“I told you, I'm The Doctor.”

“Are you really a journalist?”

“Errr not really, no. Sort of more of a travelling rescuer at this point,” the door bangs and he uses the blue light on the lock which stops the thudding immediately. “It's a long story.”

“I've got time,” I sass. “In fact I have the rest of my life which will be over in a few minutes if you don't tell me WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!”

“Blimey you don't half shout,” he covers his ears. “Do you just permanently get up on the wrong side of the bed or what?”

“Time is of the essence, Doctor,” I tap my watch furiously.

“Right right. Short version, I'm an alien who watches over time and space and helps where I can. I parked my sort of spaceship, called the TARDIS above the orphanage because I got strange power readings and wanted to help and that's where I met you and couldn't let you wander off on your own.”

“Alien? Seriously?! You look like you belong in a Debenhams store selling cologne!”

“Fine, we'll do it the crash course way,” he pulls a stethoscope out from his coat pocket. “Use these. I have two hearts.”

“Well that could just be a mutation.”

“For someone remarkably brave, you're very pigheaded. You know that?”

“You want me to believe in aliens!”

“Is it really so much of a stretch when you just saw a pair of eyes and a door lock itself?”

He had me there. I couldn't think of a single thing to counter with.

“Now that's settled, I just have one burning question and it's very important,” he comes up to me.

“What?”

“Why have you got tinsel in your hair? It's been driving me bananas all evening.”

“It's Christmas Day, you cretin.”

“Less of that. Not from here, remember? Wellllll, it's really Christmas? Oh I do like Christmas. What are you doing spending Christmas Day here? Have you not got a family to be with?”

“Cut myself off a long time ago from them. It's just me,” I cross my arms, feeling uncomfortable.

I'm used to getting a lot of judgement about my familial situation but I'd gotten myself into such bad debt trying to help them out and they kept taking without giving anything back. I couldn't do it any more.

“Well, now I'm here,” he smiles quite dozily. “This'll be a Christmas to remember certainly.”

“So you're really an alien then?”

“I am,” he nods. “I come from a planet a long way from here, and I bring a message for....no wait, hang on, I'm doing Chris de Burgh there. Great Christmas song though.”

“You really know a lot about Earth.”

“I visit often enough.”

“Don't your family miss you when you're doing this?”

“It's just me,” he parrots back to me, smile faltering a little. “ _Anyway_ , can't dilly dally. We have an orphanage to save.”

“How do we do that stuck in a room?”

“Goooood question.”

“How did you deal with this last time? With Caesar? If that wasn't a lie.”

“Oh it was real. I tell you, that man can drink. The last time it was by the skin of my teeth and a lot of dumb luck. I'm not really sure how the Talorum were defeated. I don't have all the answers.”

“Okay well, what do they do? How do they...er...is hunt the right word?”

“Oh very clever. I'm starting to warm up to you,” he laughs. “They feed on fear, using it against a person to prompt a freeze response or a fight response which typically they win. Now the Talorum like to eat young and it doesn't matter if that young is a kitten, puppy or a human child so they will do anything to get rid of the adults around.”

“So how is Mrs Fenwick still alive?”

He opens his mouth before shutting it again and opening it once more, “Do you know, I haven't got a clue? This is all quite new to me.”

“Just one more thing, Doctor,” my eyes are looking past him as orange ones lock onto mine. “I don't think a locked door keeps them out.”

“It's behind me, isn't it?” he goes quiet.

“Don't turn around,” Kayla's warning comes back to me.

“Why not?”

“The children told me.”

“Then I shall heed the children,” he becomes still before his gaze goes past me as well. “Don't turn around yourself.”

I hear the soft hissing, the footsteps and the guttural clicking noise as the Talorum came up behind me and the other started approaching the Doctor. Neither of us were moving but surely this couldn't be the way to get free of them.

Then I remembered the teddy bear and I grabbed it out of my bag, willing with all my might, believing that since I had it, they couldn't touch me. I didn't look up, I didn't let doubt creep in, I just held it to me. Kayla wouldn't have given it to me if it wasn't going to save my life.

There's a strangled screech and both of the Talorum scuttle back into the darkness, leaving us free to run.

“What was that about?” The Doctor looks shocked.

“Just open the door and get us back to the staircase!” I yell, sprinting as he matches pace and we manage to get the double doors open, feet thundering as we descended the stairs.

“In here!” Kayla spots us and waves us over.

We dash into what appears to be the dining room where Robbie and the older girl are corralling some of the other children. There's a muttering which starts and stops as we come into view.

“Thank you, Kayla. Mr Teddington saved our lives,” I hand the bear back.

“He's a good bear, that's why,” she nods sagely.

“Yes he most certainly is. You hold onto him,” The Doctor smiles. “Right you lot. I get the funny feeling you know what's going on here.”

Nobody talks. Even Kayla goes silent and sits on a chair, sipping some water.

“We went into the dark bits,” I address Robbie. “You all know how to avoid the monsters, don't you?”

“The first thing anyone told me when I got here was how to avoid them,” Robbie stares at the candle on the table. “I've been telling the others for years. Whether they listen to me is up to them.”

“And Mrs Fenwick? Why is she still alive?”

“They need her. They need someone to keep orphans coming.”

I felt a bit sick at that proclamation. The idea that the Talorum were proactively farming a food source...

“Every species wants to survive,” The Doctor says quietly next to me. “Don't blame them for having hunger and instincts.”

“But these are _children_ ,” I can't help but let the disgust creep into my voice. “Children that they're keeping in a glorified pantry.”

“Then let's work out how to stop them. Now why did the bear work? Why are these children still alive?”

He's not giving me the answer that I can tell he's already worked out for himself. He wants me to come to my own conclusion.

“Because they're not afraid or they make themselves not afraid.”

“You're smarter than you look.”

“Hey!”

“Moving on. So how do you kill fear? It's not enough to just declare you're not afraid of it. How can we remove it from the house?”

“We....we can't? This house is already known throughout the village for potentially being haunted. Everyone is afraid of it. People break in just for fun. So...so we.....so we cut off the food source. Move the kids somewhere else and they won't be able to survive.”

“Normally I'd have a plan, a way to stop things like this but you're right. There's no other way to keep them safe in here.”

“So how are we going to get them some place else?”

“Oh I have a plan for that. I just need you to get the children to the front lobby and protect them. Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

“You're really changing my opinion of you,” he winks. “I'll get Mrs Fenwick on board. Wait five minutes and then come out.”

“You won't leave us, will you?” Kayla asks.

“Ohhhh wouldn't _dream_ of it. Besides, she'd give me an earful if I tried,” he points to me before disappearing out of the door.

“Okay,” I turn to the kids. “From this point on, no one leaves this room. All your belongings will have to be left behind but we're going to get you somewhere safe. Understood?”

“Miss, I can't leave my blanket,” one of the youngest ones puts his hand up.

“I'll buy you a new blanket. We can't leave yet.”

“This is pointless,” Robbie shakes his head. “The door always shuts when we try to leave.”

“Well this time it's going to work,” I lean on the table. “Do you trust me?”

“I do!” Kayla gives me a gap-toothed grin and slowly everyone choruses their own affirmations.

The minutes tick by and it's time to go so I gather the children around me before I feel a tug at my arm and Kayla hands me Mr Teddington back. Knowing it worked once, I appreciate the gesture and I tucked the bear into the front of my jacket.

Now we were filing out into the lobby, waiting for something to happen. I could tell they were antsy, nervous and I kept obsessively counting that I had twenty three children around me at all times. I didn't want to lose anyone.

There was a grinding sound, like stuck gears and a flashing light from the ground floor in the right wing and moments later, The Doctor hared out of a room and motioned for us to follow.

“Go, go!” I urged them and they ran forward, hand in hand whilst I brought up the rear of the line.

When I first got into the room, which had electricity in it apparently because the lights were on, I was confused. There was a police phonebox in the centre of it that didn't look like it should be there but how on earth would you even get a phonebox into a room like this?

“Inside! Inside!” The Doctor waves and in the children go but I'm incredulous that this is great plan. “Hey, get in!”

“I won't fit!”

“If there's anything you've learned today it's that belief can be a powerful thing now get inside before they find us!”

“Mrs Fenwick though!”

“I told her to be here and she's not here. I can't wait!”

“We can't just leave her! She'll start the cycle all over again or they'll eat her instead! I have to go get her!”

“NOOOO! WAIT!” he screams after me as I tear off towards the orphanage wing.

When I find Mrs Fenwick, she seems completely unperturbed by the ruckus and just turns, smiling that same half forced smile that she wore earlier.

“Everything alright, dear?” she asks.

“We need to go. Come with me,” I try to grab her hand but there's a jolt like static electricity and I shout in surprise, drawing away.

“I can't go with you. They don't allow it,” she says serenely, far too serenely.

Alarm bells were ringing in my head that something was very very wrong with Mrs Fenwick. She didn't seem to be scared at all and if she knew what was going on in this house, she was very eager for me to explore it in the first instance and potentially get me killed.

“Then I shall say goodbye then,” I start walking backwards. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Oh no. No you won't be going anywhere. I'm getting too old, you see. They need someone younger, fresher who can continue feeding them for decades to come,” her voice is distorting.

The clicking sounds were magnifying around me and I knew the Talorum were trying to surround me, cut off my exit route. I clung to the bear in my jacket, waiting for an opening between the orange eyes and took my chances.

I must've faltered, doubted I would make it because something grabbed my ankle mid leap through the shadows and I sprawled to the dusty floor. I was fully prepared for the end when the Doctor came to my aid, smashing one of the old gas lamps in the hall which started to set the nearby tapestry on fire.

I was yanked to my feet and I could feel claws raking at my throat.

“Put the fire out,” Mrs Fenwick's voice was much deeper now. “Put it out or we'll kill her.”

“That's not how this negotiation works,” all the joviality has left The Doctor's face and he's sterner, angrier. “You'll let her go and _then_ I'll put out the fire. You can try your chances in getting another young woman to take your place. Or we can all burn together. Your choice.”

The standoff feels like it takes forever before the claws recede and the presence at my back is gone. I run over to The Doctor who pushes me behind him.

“Now leave us,” Mrs Fenwick is back to that serene expression. “We have restocking to do.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Journ is right. These are children and you're gaming the system unfairly. This ends here.”

Using the blue light device, all of the gas lamps shatter up towards the stairs, raining down burning oil and setting everything ablaze. The hissing and clicking reaches a terrible crescendo as The Doctor grabs my hand and takes me back to the room with the phone box.

“Get in!” he pushes me and as much as I try to protest, he shoves me in anyway.

I'm not sure whether I've gone mad or not because the phone box seems to empty into a huge room with a central console and all of the children are sat around waiting for us. The Doctor locks the doors before going to the console and flipping switches, cranking a handle and hitting something with a hammer.

“Go on, say it,” he's watching my face as I take it all in.

“This is your spaceship?”

“Yes.”

“I'm in a spaceship?”

“Yes, and?”

“Why a phone box? Not the most ergonomic design.”

He just stares at me, mouth open and eyebrows scrunched together, “ _You what?!_ Great big room in a tiny box and _that's_ what you have to say about it?!”

“Well isn't a disc shape or a conical one better for travelling?”

“I'm speechless, I truly am,” he shakes his head before the grinding gears sounds starts as he pulls a lever down. “You watch too many movies.”

“That's my only frame of reference for this kind of thing!”

“Ohhhh....can you just say 'It's bigger on the inside' for me? Please? I love it when people say that. You've thrown me right off my game now.”

“Alright, alright,” I hold my hands up before feigning surprise. “It's bigger on the inside!”

“Yeah, no, the magic is ruined,” he sighs. “Anyway, let's get these kids somewhere safe and....allons-y!”

The floor rocks like we've hit something solid, or come to a sudden stop and he strides out, throwing the doors open and I see we're in a completely different place now.

“That's amazing!” some of the kids are milling out.

I just stare in wonderment, processing that I have actually, flown in a spaceship to somewhere new. We seemed to be outside another large orphanage but this one was more inviting, homely and exuded warmth.

The Doctor led the children to the door and spoke with the owner, explaining about the fire at Heatheridge House and that they needed a place to live. Although the owner was surprised, he couldn't refuse twenty three children on Christmas Day and accepted them in.

Robbie gave me a nod of his head as he strode through the door but I stopped Kayla, giving her Mr Teddington back but she just put her hands up.

“You saved us,” she shakes her head. “Mr Teddington is yours. I don't need him any more.”

“Then I'll take very good care of him. Good luck, Kayla and....Merry Christmas.”

She gives me a quick hug around the middle before darting inside to see her new home.

“If I'm not mistaken, that appears to be a tear brewing in your eye,” The Doctor grins as he leans on the door of the phone box.

“Oh shut up,” I blink the waterworks away rapidly. “So....so that's it then. The Talorum burned to death and Mrs Fenwick...”

“She hadn't been Mrs Fenwick in a long time,” his tone softens.

“Nobody deserves to die that way.”

“And sometimes you have to make the hard choices. Save the many or the one?”

“This isn't a philosophy debate.”

“No it's not. It's my life,” he looks at me squarely and I see the haunted expression in his gaze. “I have to make decisions like this all the time and live with what I've done. Every day I ask myself whether it's worth it. Do you think this was worth it? Saving those children?”

“Yes,” I say quietly, glancing to the orphanage and feeling deflated. “How do you stand it? The guilt?”

“You don't. You just bear it. You keep going for all the times you manage to save others.”

“Sounds very lonely.”

“It can be,” he takes in a deep breath.

“Doctor?”

“Yeah?”

“I'd like to leave now.”

“Right, yeah,” he opens the door and I go into his ship. “Back to Newton-St-Loe, we go.”

I set Mr Teddington in a prominent position on the centre console, tucked into some pipes so his face peeked through. He didn't look out of place amongst all the junk surrounding him.

“What's that for?” The Doctor asks.

“Good luck charm for when you have to do this again in the future.”

He smiles so that his eyes crease up and crinkle, “You're one big softie hiding under sarcasm, aren't you?”

“I said shut up about that.”

“Go onnnnnn, admit it.”

“Alright, so what if I am?”

“Well if you are, I can always offer you a room,” he asks like he's afraid of the answer. “Like I said before, this ship doesn't just fly around space, it goes through time too. Could....have some adventures?”

“And are they all as terrifying as this?”

“Not usually.”

“So...so I could see other planets? I could go get drunk with Caesar at a different time?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“Is this because you're lonely or because you've warmed up to me?”

He laughs, “Little of Column A, little of Column B. Nobody should be alone on Christmas and I have to say, your selflessness and willingness to put yourself in harms way for others is....well it's inspiring really. So what do you say? Want to run around space and time and maybe write something truly unique?”

“You know this would make a great book,” I mull it over. “But I don't know a thing about you.”

“You don't have to. You just have to decide if you trust me.”

I look at him as he takes off his coat and throws it over a railing before waiting patiently for me to speak. _Did_ I trust him? I found that I did. He'd come back for me when I'd run headlong into danger and he seemed to genuinely want to help.

“Where's our first destination then?”

The Doctor beams with delight, “How about a planet where the ground is the density of a trampoline? Everybody bouncing along to get their food from the market? Or how about the Battle of Hastings, from a safe distance of course. We could even go into the future, see if Keith Richards is still alive in the year 3000 because that man just keeps on going and no amount of science is explaining _that_ phenomenon.”

“Surprise me.”

“Oh brilliant, I'm full of surprises,” he winks before adjusting some dials. “Let's adjourn, Journ.”

And with that, he flicks the lever up and I hold onto the console for dear life as the TARDIS pitches around wildly, taking me to a destination that I couldn't even begin to imagine.


End file.
